


voices from the yellow road

by devviepuu



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Captain Swan September Sunshine, Epistolary, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Neighbors, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-11 09:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20543633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devviepuu/pseuds/devviepuu
Summary: emma lives with her brother and his fiancee.it's not an ideal situation, especially when david and mary margaret make a night of it.(she really needs to get her own place)--originally inspired by a Tumblr prompt:"i got up at 2 am to get some snacks at the convenience store down the street and opened my door to find you trying to sleep on the floor of the hallway because your roommate has his fiancée over so i guess i’ll lend you my couch for the night AU"





	voices from the yellow road

**Author's Note:**

> originally inspired by a Tumblr prompt:  
"i got up at 2 am to get some snacks at the convenience store down the street and opened my door to find you trying to sleep on the floor of the hallway because your roommate has his fiancée over so i guess i’ll lend you my couch for the night AU" and subsequently by [i got your number (i need to make you mine)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7973635/chapters/18239425) and [the unbearable hotness of being](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020103/chapters/15979321) (both AU arrow fics)
> 
> posted as part of the [Captain Swan September Sunshine](https://csseptembersunshine.tumblr.com/) event
> 
> thank you to [RecoveringTheSatellites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecoveringTheSatellites/pseuds/RecoveringTheSatellites) for helping me figure out where i was actually being entertaining vs just talking to myself; YMMV but apparently i crack myself up
> 
> and to profdanglais for kind words and encouragement, and sharing my enjoyment of epistolary stories

**\--**

**Mary Margaret [6.30 PM]** **  
**How’s your day going?

**Emma [6.32 PM]** **  
**Too much cocoa

**Emma [6.32 PM]** **  
**Not enough bathroom breaks

**Emma [6.32 PM]** **  
**And the heat in the Beetle is busted again

**Emma [6.33 PM]** **  
**So if you need a favor just ask

**Mary Margaret [6.36 PM]** **  
**You coming home tonight?

**Emma [6.40 PM]** **  
**Nabbing this guy will pay my share of the rent for the next several months

**Emma [6.40 PM]** **  
**So, no

**Emma [6.40 PM]** **  
**Not if I can help it

**Mary Margaret [6.42 PM]** **  
**Oh

**Mary Margaret [6.42 PM]** **  
**Okay.

**Mary Margaret [6.42 PM]** **  
**I mean, rent is good.

**Emma [6.45 PM]** **  
**Or you could just say that David is coming home

**Mary Margaret [6.47 PM]** **  
**He mentioned that he had the night off

**Mary Margaret [6.50 PM]** **  
**That’s all

**Emma [7.00 PM]** **  
**I’m pretending to believe you because I already know too much about my brother’s sex life as it is

**Mary Margaret [7.03 PM]** **  
**Emma!

**Emma [7.15 PM]** **  
**I’ll text you if my plans change

\--

**Emma [1.48 AM]** **  
**I’m on my way home

**Emma [1.49 AM]** **  
**Please be decent

\--

**Killian [1.58 AM]** **  
**I hate you so much right now.

**Killian [1.58 AM]** **  
**And you should know that I am considering vengeance.

**Robin [1.59 AM]** **  
**What?

**Killian [1.59 AM]** **  
**Revenge, mate. It’s gonna be mine.

**Robin [2.01 AM]** **  
**No

**Robin [2.01 AM]** **  
**I meant 

**Robin [2.02 AM]** **  
**What could you possibly be going on about right now, you over-dramatic arse?

**Killian [2.03 AM]** **  
**My hatred of you.

**Killian [2.03 AM]** **  
**Complete, utter, total detestation.

**Robin [2.04 AM]** **  
**Three words that all mean the same thing

**Robin [2.05 AM]** **  
**Must be serious

**Robin [2.06 AM]** **  
**Why am I the lucky recipient of your invectives at 2 in the morning?

**Killian [2.07 AM]** **  
**Because it is generally considered bad form to hurl invective at a 4-year-old

**Robin [2.08 AM]** **  
**Ah

**Robin [2.09 AM]** **  
**Sick again, are you?

**Killian [2.11 AM]** **  
**What the fuck kind of supergerms do they have at your kid’s daycare, anyway?

**Killian [2.11 AM]** **  
**It’s been every six weeks

**Killian [2.12 AM]** **  
**Since October, mate

**Killian [2.12 AM]** **  
**Does that not strike you as excessive

**Robin [2.14 AM]** **  
**What strikes me as excessive is you whining to me in the middle of the night about your sore throat and stuffy nose

**Robin [2.14 AM]** **  
**Modern medicine exists, mate

**Robin [2.14 AM]** **  
**In spite of your belief that you are beyond such things and could survive on a deserted island on the force of your will alone 

**Robin [2.14 AM]** **  
**There must be an all-night chemist somewhere in your vicinity

**Robin [2.15 AM]** **  
**That way both of us could sleep

**Robin [2.20 AM]** **  
**You know I’m right

**Killian [2.22 AM]** **  
**Broken clocks, Rob

**Robin [2.24 AM]** **  
**Tick-tock, Killian, and get thee to the pharmacy

**Killian [2.30 AM]** **  
**I hate you

**Robin [2.31 AM]** **  
**Glad we’ve come full circle

**Robin [2.34 AM]** **  
**Let me know you’ve got home all right, yeah?

**Robin [2.36 AM]** **  
**I would rather not have to tell Roland that his favorite uncle is dead

**Robin [3.00 AM]** **  
**Killian

**Robin [3.48 AM]** **  
**Alright, Killian?

**Robin [7.00 AM]** **  
**Did something happen?

**Killian [7.16 AM]** **  
**Aye.

**Killian [7.18 AM]** **  
**You might say that.

\--

**Emma [8.00 AM]** **  
**Ruby.

**Emma [8.05 AM]** **  
**RUBY.

**Emma [8.10 AM]** **  
**Seriously, Ruby

**Emma [8.12 AM]** **  
**How are you even still in bed don’t you work the morning shift at the diner

**Emma [8.17 AM]** **  
**Ok I know you aren’t working the morning shift because usually you ignore customers literally begging you for coffee in order to text me

**Emma [8.18 AM]** **  
**Actual people paying money trying to secure your attention and you ignore them for me and yet when I need you, nothing

**Emma [8.20 AM]** **  
**If Victor or Belle or ANYONE is still there I don’t even want to know just get your ass out of bed and answer me or I will do something drastic like force you to speak on the telephone

**Ruby [8.35]** **  
**You say that like you wouldn’t rather fight a dragon with a sword than actually make a phone call

**Emma [8.37 AM]** **  
**Fucking finally

**Ruby [8.38 AM]** **  
**Good morning to you too, sunshine.

**Emma [8.39 AM]** **  
**A sword? Where am I getting a…

**Emma [8.39 AM]** **  
**Never mind don’t know don’t care

**Emma [8.40 AM]** **  
**Ruby 

**Emma [8.40 AM]** **  
**I fucked up.

**Ruby [8.41 AM]** **  
**What do you need? 

**Ruby [8.41 AM]** **  
**Bleach, tarp, shovel, getaway car?

**Ruby [8.42 AM]** **  
**That yellow period piece is a little conspicuous, I admit

**Emma [8.43 AM]** **  
**I’m not sure if I’m offended or touched right now

**Ruby [8.44 AM]** **  
**Honored. Obv.

**Ruby [8.44 AM]** **  
**Friends help you move, babe

**Ruby [8.45 AM]** **  
**Real friends help you move bodies.

**Emma [8.50 AM]** **  
**Um

**Emma [8.50 AM]** **  
**So Mary Margaret and David made a night of it last night

**Ruby [8.51 AM]** **  
**Like Snow White and Prince Charming and their Red Room hijinks haven’t been old news for years now

**Ruby [8.51 AM]** **  
**Where’s your sense of adventure

**Emma [8.55 AM]** **  
**I locked it out of my apartment and left it to sleep on the hallway floor with the most beautiful man in existence while Mary Margaret and David made a night of it 

**Ruby [8.56 AM]** **  
**Wait

**Ruby [8.56 AM]** **  
**What?!

**Ruby [9.00 AM]** **  
**Is this seriously the kind of shit you pull when I leave you unsupervised?!

**Ruby [9.00 AM]** **  
**Start at the beginning

**Ruby [9.00 AM]** **  
**Leave nothing out

\--

What happened was this: her plans changed, Emma triumphantly depositing her deadbeat at the local precinct to receive a high five from Will Scarlet, the late show detective on call. She emptied her bladder, phoned Graham to ensure her share of the forfeited bond was set aside, and headed home.

It was the going home that was the mistake--her brother and best friend were wholly occupied and the door to the bedroom wasn’t even closed. Emma ran back out as quickly as possible, not bothering with stealth because it was obvious no one would hear her no matter what she did, and only then realized she had left her keys on the kitchen counter and locked the door behind her.

“Shit,” she muttered, sliding down onto the floor. She didn’t even have her lock pick set, not that she was going back in there if it tripled her share of the bond, and she was not sleeping in the Beetle after spending the entire day folded into the front seat. Her leg was basically still cramped. Emma leaned her head back, banging it on the wall, and spread her legs out in front of her.

Hell, she’d slept in weirder places. 

She was just getting comfortable when the door of the next apartment over opened and someone stumbled out. He was tall and slim with dark hair, wearing flannel pajama bottoms, a white t-shirt, and a ridiculously oversized greatcoat that hung open, which Emma had to imagine somewhat defeated the purpose. There was a scrap of black cloth around his neck that she supposed was meant to be a scarf and just when she was wondering if she should yell for help the man sneezed, caught his breath, and started coughing.

“Bless you,” Emma ventured, and he turned toward her, which was of course when she noticed the eyes.

“Thank you, lass,” he said, his voice thick from the cold and accented, presumably from wherever he was from. Ireland? He sneezed again and waved, heading for the elevator.

Emma eyed the closed door in speculation and decided, since he didn’t seem to be a serial killer, that it might be worth playing the neighbor-trying-to-borrow-a-cup-of-sugar routine and asking to sleep on his couch when he got back from, she assumed, the all-night pharmacy around the corner. She closed her eyes and waited for him, opening them in anticipation when the elevator announced an arrival. His eyebrows raised when he noticed her still sitting there, an unspoken question in the air.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” he said with a smile, and sneezed.

She laughed and said, “Actually…” and nothing else, because that was when he started swearing.

In...Gaelic?

No, that was _ Outlander _ , not Ireland. Not that she watched _ Outlander _. Mary Margaret did. She just left the volume on loud and Emma heard it. That was all.

The beautiful man with the bluest eyes in existence seemed to be locked out too. He shook his head, muttered something about _ fucking Rob _ and _ this is why I don’t go to the chemist _and turned to her, smile back in place. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, gesturing at the expanse of floor that lay between them. “Only I seem to have locked myself out.” He coughed and gingerly lowered himself to the ground, bracing himself with one hand against the wall when he faltered. 

His eyes were _ so blue _. That was totally going to be her excuse.

Emma reached out to steady him.

“Thank you again,” he said, surprise lighting his features. “I promise, I am usually capable of remaining upright, but I took the cough syrup right there at the chemist and apparently it’s rather potent.” The bag holding the cough syrup had fallen to the floor when his knees buckled, and Emma knew from experience that the dark green liquid might as well be a sleeping potion--or a curse, given the morning-after hangover. “May I know the name of my savior, love?”

“Not your savior,” Emma retorted. “Not your love, either.”

“Can’t blame a man for trying, lass,” he said, and the smile was a little more real that time.

He sneezed again.

Emma thought it was cute.

(She was so fucked.)

They ended up leaning up against each other--because he was unsteady and needed the support--and Emma wasn’t sure how it happened but the last thing she remembered was him muttering a name (“Killian Jones, lass, pleasure to meet you”) and punctuating it with another cough as she settled herself more firmly against his shoulder before it was morning and his head was against her thigh, her fingers splayed in his hair. His coat was spread over his legs, angled just so that it hit her calves and feet. He was awake, if glassy-eyed, and “Hello, beautiful,” was what he said in greeting, followed by, “thought you were a dream.”

“Oh!”

Emma startled, knocking Killian off of her lap as her apartment door opened, David crowding the doorway clad only in Mary Margaret’s bathrobe, and wasn’t _ that _a visual for which she would never be able to thank him enough.

David’s expression of pure horror probably matched her own.

“David, Killian,” she said, gesturing at the man who had reconfigured himself on the floor and seemed to be already asleep again. “Killian, David.” 

Emma pulled herself up off the floor and pushed David out of the door frame. “Don’t start,” she warned, and went to her room to find her lock picks.

\--

**Robin [7.40 AM]** **  
**You didn’t even ask her name

**Robin [7.40 AM]** **  
**Or, more immediately relevant, why she was sleeping on the hallway floor

**Killian [7.41 AM]** **  
**I presume it had to do with the enthusiastic coupling going on in her flat

**Killian [7.41 AM]** **  
**Which we could hear from the hallway

**Killian [7.42 AM]** **  
**The walls in this building are not thick, mate

**Robin [7.45 AM]** **  
**Unlike you 

**Robin [7.45 AM]** **  
**You could have phoned me

**Robin [7.45 AM]** **  
**It’s not like I was wide awake at three in the morning worried about your well-being or anything

**Killian [7.46 AM]** **  
**I was high on cough syrup

**Killian [7.47 AM]** **  
**Passed out on the fucking floor

**Killian [7.47 AM]** **  
**Drooling over the loveliest woman I’ve ever seen

**Killian [7.48 AM]** **  
**You wound me

**Robin [7.49 AM]** **  
**Your emotional delicacy is irrelevant

**Robin [7.50 AM]** **  
**You’re a moron

**Killian [7.51 AM]** **  
**It’s moments like this that make me cherish our relationship

**Robin [7.51 AM]** **  
**Sod off

**Robin [8.30 AM]** **  
**Don’t forget you promised you would pick up Roland

**Killian [8.40 AM]** **  
**At least Roland won’t abuse me in my delicate emotional state

**Robin [8.45 AM]** **  
**No

**Robin [8.45 AM]** **  
**But there might be more ‘supergerms’

**Killian [8.50 AM]** **  
**I forgive him for the supergerms

**Killian [8.52 AM]** **  
**Her eyes were greener than my cough syrup

**Robin [9.00 AM]** **  
**One day I will tell her you said that

**Robin [9.00 AM]** **  
**It will be part of my speech at your wedding

**Robin [9.01 AM]** **  
**Killing at last the persistent myth of Killian Jones’ famous eloquence

**Robin [10.30 AM]** **  
**...did she really pick the lock to your flat to let you back in?

**Killian [10.35 AM]** **  
**Aye

**Robin [11.00 AM]** **  
**Killian

**Robin [11.00 AM]** **  
**Tell me you’re not already in love with this woman

**Killian [11.12 AM]** **  
**Swan, Robin

**Killian [11.12 AM]** **  
**Her name is Emma Swan.

**Robin [11.39 AM]** **  
**You are so fucked

**Killian [11.43 AM]** **  
**...I know

\--

**Ruby [9.40 AM]** **  
**You smiled at him

**Ruby [9.40 AM]** **  
**That is your epic fuckup

**Ruby [9.41 AM]** **  
**Not the locking yourself out 

**Ruby [9.43 AM]** **  
**Or neglecting to ravish him on the hallway floor

**Emma [9.44 AM]** **  
**Don’t be vulgar

**Ruby [9.44 AM]** **  
**Don’t act surprised

**Emma [9.46 AM]** **  
**Focus please Ruby there is actual drool on my jeans from the most beautiful man in existence

**Ruby [9.47 AM]** **  
**On your jeans

**Ruby [9.47 AM]** **  
**Meaning he slept in your lap

**Emma [9.50 AM]** **  
**I’m not answering that

**Emma [9.55 AM]** **  
**He was sick and falling over, Ruby

**Emma [9.56 AM]** **  
**Coughing and sneezing and his fucking blue eyes were kind of glassy and unfocused and DAVID FOUND US LIKE THAT

**Ruby [10.00 AM]** **  
**David doesn’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to ridiculous meet-cute stories

**Ruby [10.00 AM]** **  
**It’ll be fine, Em

**Ruby [10.01 AM]** **  
**Obviously you’re already planning to never speak to him again

**Emma [10.06 AM]** **  
**Why do you know me so well

**Ruby [10.08 AM]** **  
**Years of experience

**Ruby [10.20 AM]** **  
**Ok, so

**Ruby [10.20 AM]** **  
**Hear me out

**Ruby [10.22 AM]** **  
**You could, you know...ravish him NOT on the hallway floor

**Ruby [10.22 AM]** **  
**And then never speak to him again

**Ruby [10.26 AM]** **  
**But only if it’s bad

**Ruby [10.28 AM]** **  
**If he’s as hot as you say...probably won’t be bad

**Emma [10.33 AM]** **  
**Ugh

**Emma [10.33 AM]** **  
**He is stupid handsome

**Ruby [10.37 AM]** **  
**Added bonus, no drool.

**Ruby [10.38 AM]** **  
**We hope

**Ruby [10.39 AM]** **  
**Ew, that would be weird, right?

**Emma [10.43 AM]** **  
**Why do I tell you things

\--

The problem was this: there was a reason Emma told Ruby things. 

And now she was sick and staring at a logo on an old, ratty t-shirt left over from college days that was, inadvertently, part of the reason Emma told Ruby things. It was her brother’s shirt but possession had definitely been muddled in the years since David had worn it as part of his job doing pre-orientation for new students. Because it wasn’t enough for David and Mary Margaret to have met on the first day of college.

Nope.

They had actually met almost a week before college started, on a pre-orientation camping trip with David dressed like a doofus in a blue shirt that unironically proclaimed “not all who wander are lost” laid out over the university logo re-designed as compass rose.

“Outdoors club,” he had said proudly to his assigned group. “Getting people off-campus since 1906.”

To hear them tell it, Mary Margaret had snorted rudely--but Emma didn’t believe it. Mary Margaret did not snort. What was true was that Mary Margaret had hit David in the face with a rock and started freshman year with hearts in her eyes. A happily-ever-after in the making just as soon as they dealt with the issue of David’s girlfriend, Kathryn. By sophomore year, with Emma and Mary Margaret living together, the secret mutual pining was becoming unbearable until Mary Margaret burst into their room one day with a smile that achieved new levels of dopey.

“Oh god,” Emma had said, not even needing to ask. “You slept with him.”

Another camping trip, of course, and the details had come bubbling out and David was actually at that very moment in the process of finally breaking off his relationship with Kathryn and the sappiness of it all hadn’t even bothered Emma because she had her own news to share, too. His name was Neal; he was a year above them and lived in a dorm down the hall and he had _ cooked _for her and they had hooked up, gleefully rounding the bases while making jokes about the impracticality of sleeping two to a college-sized twin bed. Ten years later and Emma could still remember the song that had been playing on the radio because she had told Mary Margaret about it.

Mary Margaret had been positively thrilled, in the way that best friends are, and had hearts in her eyes again but this time they were for Emma. Mary Margaret might have been more upset than Emma was when, months later, it turned out that Neal was also dating Tamara. Emma had always told herself not to have expectations about people, because they just let you down, and Neal was just acting according to the script--but the truth was that she was crushed, and several weeks of sobbing had ensued; of hashing out every little thing she might have done wrong and every sign she might have missed until both she and Mary Margaret were exhausted.

Emma sneezed and the hovering logo ran for another box of tissues. “You don’t usually get sick,” Mary Margaret commented when she returned, not saying anything else because Emma had done everything short of actually paying her brother money to keep him from telling Mary Margaret about The Hallway Incident.

Mary Margaret wanted nothing more than for Emma to be happy. Their stupid-handsome next-door neighbor, drool and all, would start the heart-eyes all over again and Emma was not emotionally prepared for the inevitable fallout when it crashed and burned. Again. Like Neal; like Walsh; like the string of one-nighters not even worth remembering. 

She sneezed again.

Ruby, on the other hand, wanted the dirt and the drama but generally preferred it to be about her, which meant that she was always sympathetic but never truly invested. So Emma told her things and felt vaguely guilty while Mary Margaret hovered, letting herself pretend that she was no longer the type of person who let herself get emotional over men.

Emma blew her nose on one of the proffered tissues, trying not to be gross about it while Mary Margaret watched her, but the sheer quantity of _ stuff _in the tissue made her want to gag for the few precious seconds of clear breathing she was able to enjoy before repeating the process. Swallowing was difficult and she hadn’t taken a full breath in hours, at least and her skin felt like it was on fire even while she shivered. Emma had to admit to herself that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk to the pharmacy and back without falling over, either. 

At least David had volunteered himself for that particular task.

Mary Margaret picked a blanket up off the floor from where Emma had discarded it during a moment of sweaty feverishness. “You poor thing,” she sighed. “I’ve seen this going around at my school. All the kids are passing it back and forth.” She draped the blanket over Emma’s legs and Emma gratefully sank further into a pillow, trying to pull the warmth closer to her chin.

“Mmmm,” Emma mumbled from under the blanket. “This is your fault, anyway. Do you have any idea how cold it was in the hallway in the middle of the night?”

“I said I was sorry,” Mary Margaret said, not for the first time. “I didn’t get your text.”

“Obviously,” Emma rasped.

“It was a week ago,” Mary Margaret said, a note of pleading in her voice.

“Please stop ragging on my fiancee and your future sister-in-law,” David said as he opened the door, bright green bounty in hand. “She apologized, and you were _ fine _.” Emma, even in her weakened state, did not fail to notice the emphasis he laid on the last word.

“_ Fine _,” Emma muttered.

The door was still open, which meant all three of them could hear it when a commotion suddenly erupted in the hallway: the ding of the elevator, the voices in the hallway, the uneven but enthusiastic footsteps, the inevitable collision.

\--

**Ruby [4.58 PM]** **  
**Come on, Em

**Ruby [5.03 PM]** **  
**I’m not the one who swore never to speak to him again

**Ruby [5.08 PM]** **  
**Also, technically, that was the first time I spoke to him

**Ruby [5.17 PM]** **  
**Are you seriously mad at me right now?

**Emma [5.33 PM]** **  
**Soup, Ruby

**Ruby [5.34 PM]** **  
**Oh, right, of course

**Ruby [5.35 PM]** **  
**Soup

**Ruby [5.41 PM]** **  
**You know I have no idea what you are talking about

**Emma [5.44 PM]** **  
**Killian

**Emma [5.44 PM]** **  
**Brought me soup

\--

**Robin [6.00 PM]** **  
**You brought her soup?

**Killian [6.01 PM]** **  
**It seemed like the right thing to do

**Killian [6.01 PM]** **  
**Good form, etc

**Killian [6.02 PM]** **  
**It is after all my fault she is ill

**Robin [6.04 PM]** **  
**Technically it is Roland’s fault

**Killian [6.05 PM]** **  
**Which is why Roland volunteered to assist me on my mission of mercy

**Killian [6.06 PM]** **  
**He knew it was the honourable thing to do

**Robin [6.09 PM]** **  
**Stalking your neighbour with soup was not the kind of activity I had in mind when I asked if you would pick up Roland from school

**Robin [6.11 PM]** **  
**Speaking of

**Robin [6.11 PM]** **  
**How did you know she was poorly

**Robin [6.12 PM]** **  
**Only I thought you said you hadn’t seen her since The Drool Incident

**Killian [6.13 PM]** **  
**Please do not call it that

**Robin [6.14 PM]** **  
**The Hallway Incident

**Killian [6.15 PM]** **  
**The Hallway Incident is what happened today and precipitated the stalking

**Robin [6.16 PM]**  
Whatever you say

**Robin [6.25 PM]**  
Killian

**Robin [6.25 PM]**  
Did you seriously let my son have ice cream

**Robin [6.26 PM]** **  
**You know I’m making him dinner

**Killian [6.30 PM]** **  
**Your son, I feel you should know, has no concept of an indoor voice

**Killian [6.30 PM]** **  
**And a manner of walking more suited to traipsing about in the forest or some shit

**Killian [6.31 PM]** **  
**He ran straight off the lift and very nearly into Miss Swan’s flat

**Robin [6.36 PM]** **  
**Because my son can pass through the solid matter of a closed door now?

**Killian [6.37 PM]** **  
**Because Emma’s brother and a friend were visiting her while she was ill and the door was open

**Killian [6.38 PM]**  
Git.

**Robin [6.41 PM]**  
Riveting story

**Killian [6.43 PM]** **  
**Well, apparently I had briefly met Emma’s brother

**Killian [6.43 PM]** **  
**You know, from before

**Robin [6.44 PM]** **  
**The Drool Incident.

**Killian [6.45 PM]** **  
**Long story short

**Robin [6.45 PM]** **  
**Too late

**Killian [6.47 PM]** **  
**They invited me in after your son nearly knocked Emma’s friend over

**Killian [6.47 PM]** **  
**And I saw that she was feeling poorly

**Killian [6.49 PM]** **  
**Emma’s flatmate had no idea who I was but seems to know Roland

**Robin [6.52 PM]** **  
**This is the kind of influence you have on my son

**Robin [6.52 PM]** **  
**He’s leaving women in the lurch already

**Killian [6.53 PM]** **  
**She’s one of the teachers at his school

**Killian [6.53 PM]** **  
**Mary Margaret Blanchard

**Killian [6.54 PM]** **  
**(The hell kind of name is that anyway..?)

**Robin [6.59 PM]** **  
**To hear Roland tell it

**Robin [6.59 PM]** **  
**The kind where small woodland creatures sing to her or something

**Robin [7.00 PM]** **  
**He positively adores her

**Killian [7.09 PM]** **  
**So our cast of characters are the Lady Swan, her brother, the flatmate, and their tall brunette friend with hair down past her arse and streaked with red

**Killian [7.11 PM]** **  
**Actually 

**Killian [7.11 PM]** **  
**Her friend seemed to know who I was

**Robin [7.16 PM]** **  
**Intrigue

**Robin [7.17 PM]** **  
**Did you…?

**Killian [7.18 PM]** **  
**What

**Killian [7.18 PM]** **  
**No

**Killian [7.18 PM]** **  
**Of course not

**Killian [7.19 PM]** **  
**Prick

**Robin [7.21 PM]** **  
**Merely trying to make the story more interesting than ‘soup’

**Killian [7.22 PM]** **  
**I am a man of honour

**Killian [7.22 PM]** **  
**It was the right thing to do

**Killian [7.22 PM]** **  
**I had nothing whatsoever to do with the friendly brunette

**Killian [7.23 PM]** **  
**Shit

**Robin [7.25 PM]** **  
**You have a history with brunettes, is all I am saying

**Robin [7.48 PM]** **  
**Killian

**Robin [8.39 PM]** **  
**Killian

**Robin [8.40 PM]** **  
**I’m sorry

**Robin [9.03 PM]** **  
**Finish the soup story

**Killian [10.56 PM]** **  
**Fuck off

**Robin [10.57 PM]** **  
**No Irish curses?

**Robin [10.58 PM]** **  
**I’m crushed

**Killian [11.01 PM]** **  
**You’re not worth the fight with autocorrect

**Robin [11.03 PM]** **  
**I respect and appreciate this approach to time management

**Killian [11.04 PM]** **  
**What happened to 'crushed'?

**Robin [11.05 PM]** **  
**I got over it

**Robin [11.07 PM]** **  
**So tell me, mate

**Robin [11.07 PM]**  
Did you wait until after you’d given her the soup to tell her you’re in love with her

**Robin [11.07 PM]** **  
**Or did you do it before?

**Killian [11.10 PM]** **  
**You’re making me reconsider my approach to time management

**Robin [11.10 PM]** **  
**You fancy her, Killian

**Robin [11.11 PM]**  
And it’s about bloody time

\--

The simple fact was this: Killian did have a history with brunettes.

That is--a brunette. 

Singular. 

Killian had met Milah whilst he was on the rebound from his lost childhood and she was on the rebound from her shit husband, and they had found themselves in each other. Or rather, Killian had found himself; Milah had kept looking and Killian Jones, lost boy, had become Killian Jones, lost soul. 

And Robin Locksley was the one who had scraped him up off the pavement, after. Took one look at Killian in his pathetic state and knew that wasn’t what Liam would have wanted for him.

“Happily,” Killian had snarked, “dead people aren’t in the habit of wanting things.”

Robin had refused to give him any paracetamol for the hangover, after that. But he did take him in--for a while--and then kicked him out of the nest and forced him to get a flat, all because Robin Locksley and Liam Jones had, once upon a time, been best mates. And even though nothing and no one would or could ever replace Liam, Robin had become another brother to the point that sometimes Killian forgot Roland Locksley wasn’t his nephew by blood.

Brothers took the piss, that was natural--but Killian couldn’t get Robin’s words out of his head: _ You fancy her, Killian, and it’s about bloody time _ . Sleep did not come easily that night and Killian woke up already on the defensive because Robin, of all people, _ bloody knew better _and why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone, it had only been two years--

Killian stopped in his tracks.

_ Fucking hell _.

Two years. _ Two years _. Two years of heartbreak and hangovers and, eventually, school dropoff and unauthorised ice cream and fucking supergerms.

Family.

He pulled the door closed behind him and fumbled for his key and casually, almost accidentally, glanced at the nondescript neighbouring door.

Wondered if the supergerms had slain Emma Swan, or if…

_ Shit _.

He fancied her.

Milah hadn’t been a crush. Milah had been more like a crash; Killian had spotted her across a crowded room and had fallen before he’d finished introducing himself--though at least he had not literally fallen, as opposed to his stunning performance the previous week.

He was still standing in the hallway, woolgathering and muttering to himself like an arse, when the hallway door next to him (the one he absolutely _ had not _been watching) opened and the petite brunette with the pixie cut stepped out.

“Hi!” She said brightly. “Killian, right? It’s so nice to see you again!”

She sounded so devastatingly sincere.

Killian smiled. “Aye, Mary Margaret,” he said. “You as well.”

“So, listen,” Mary Margaret. “I’m going to say this, because Emma won’t--”

Killian’s shoulders tensed.

“--and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Killian felt his hand rubbing the back of his neck almost of its own volition.

“She really appreciated the soup the other day.”

“Oh,” Killian said.

Mary Margaret watched him, saying nothing. There was a knowing quality in her eyes and she was smiling. Then she said, “Emma, you know, she’s not always a people person, but that was really thoughtful of you. Not that many people would take the time.”

Killian had the sudden suspicion that many people in Emma Swan’s life had never taken the time. For much of anything.

He knew the feeling.

“I hope you don’t think I’m overstepping,” Mary Margaret continued. “She’s my best friend, and she’s my fiancee’s adopted sister. That makes her family, you know what I mean?”

More than she could ever know.

“It seemed the right thing to do,” Killian said softly. “I was worried when I saw she’d been ill, that’s all.”

“Wait,” Mary Margaret said as her eyes narrowed. “Had you met Emma before?”

_ Fuck. _

“Erm,” Killian said, not wanting to relive The Droo--The Hallway Incident and definitely not wanting to land on Emma’s bad side by revealing more than she had chosen to. “Only briefly. I happened to run into her one night last week.”

“Last week,” Mary Margaret echoed, a hint of a blush coloring her fair cheeks.

“Truly,” he said, “it was no trouble in the least. I wouldn’t have bothered you at all had it not been for Roland.”

Mary Margaret leaned against the wall, as though settling in for a long chat. “How do you know the Locksleys?” She asked. “Are you a friend of Robin’s?”

“Rather more like friend, part-time nanny and full-time charity case,” Killian said with a sheepish grin.

“Family, then,” Mary Margaret said, matching his smile.

“Robin was my elder brother’s best mate back in London,” Killian explained, not sure how this stranger had dragged so much of his life story out of him whilst standing in a hallway.

“Roland is a student at my school,” Mary Margaret said.

“So I’ve been informed,” Killian said.

“I know Robin only slightly,” she said, “but his son is a delight.”

“Clearly,” Killian said, “you’ve never had him when he’s had too much ice cream.”

Mary Margaret laughed, a small thing that seemed to suffuse the hallway with her good mood.

“In fact I was reprimanded by his father for that very sin just last evening,” Killian said.

“Roland is lucky to have you,” Mary Margaret said seriously.

“I’m the lucky one,” Killian muttered, glancing at her to make sure she had not heard him.

“What’s that?” she asked, the picture of innocence.

“Apologies, lass,” Killian said. “Merely talking to myself.”

“Oh!” Mary Margaret seemed suddenly to recollect their location. “Of course, I’m sure I’m keeping you from your day. And I’m going to be late for school.”

“We are all of us slaves to time,” Killian agreed. He gestured toward the lift, his head inclined.

Mary Margaret smiled again and began to walk.

“But Emma,” Killian pressed. “She’s feeling better, I hope?”

“She is,” Mary Margaret said. “Which is fortunate because I swear I can’t remember the last time she’d been sick.” Mary Margaret’s gaze ran over him, from his head down to his shoes, and turned speculative. “Hey,” she said, “don’t be a stranger, Killian. Emma’s bark is worse than her bite--mostly.”

He pressed the button for the lift and chuckled appreciatively. That much, he had already deduced. 

“Of course not,” Killian said, already certain that Mary Margaret Blanchard was not going to give him a choice.

\--

**Mary Margaret [2.48 PM]**  
Killian asked about you today

**Mary Margaret [2.49 PM]**  
When were you going to tell me about our stupid-hot neighbor and the fact that you’d already met him

**Emma [2.51 PM]**

Fuck. Me.

**Mary Margaret [2.53 PM]**  
EMMA!

**Emma [2.54 PM]**  
Oh, darn.

**Emma [2.54 PM]**  
Better?

**Mary Margaret [2.56 PM]**  
I’ll take what I can get

**Emma [3.06 PM]**  
Don’t even think it

**Mary Margaret [3.06 PM]**  
What?

**Emma [3.07 PM]** **  
**What you’re thinking

**Emma [3.09 PM]**  
Don’t

\--

**Ruby [3.39 PM]**  
Red alert

**Emma [3.41 PM]** **  
**Was that supposed to be funny?

**Ruby [3.42 PM]**  
Mary Margaret knows about Killian

**Emma [3.45 PM]**  
I know

**Emma [3.45 PM]**  
Wait

**Emma [3.45 PM]**  
How did you know

**Ruby [3.50 PM]**  
You’re so cute sometimes

**Emma [3.51 PM]**  
Surely you mean 'all the time'

**Ruby [3.51 PM]**  
The woman cannot keep a secret to save her life

**Ruby [3.53 PM]**  
I’ve only been hearing about it during every class break this morning

**Ruby [3.54 PM]**  
And that’s after she came into the diner for coffee and told me about it

**Ruby [3.56 PM]**  
7:15 on the dot

**Emma [3.58 PM]** **  
**Yeah David had the overnight

**Ruby [3.59 PM]**  
Obv

**Emma [4.12 PM]** **  
**She’s hell-bent on dragging me out for drinks tonight

**Ruby [4.13 PM]**  
Apple martinis??

**Emma [4.15 PM]**  
Duh

**Ruby [4.19 PM]**  
It’s cool, Em

**Ruby [4:20 PM]**  
The 90s are back, you know

**Emma [4.25 PM]**  
So I’ve been told

**Emma [4.26 PM]**  
As long as I don’t have to carry her home after

**Ruby [4.28 PM]**  
That was one time

**Emma [4.36 PM]**  
You’re coming with

**Ruby [4.37 PM]**  
Was that a question

**Emma [4.40 PM]**  
Nope

\--

**Robin [3:16 PM]**  
Mary Margaret accosted me at school pickup today

**Killian [3:17 PM]**  
I have a very bad feeling about this

**Robin [3:19 PM]**  
Did you just make a pop culture reference

**Robin [3:20 PM]**  
I feel like I’m watching Roland take his first steps all over again

**Killian [3:21 PM]**  
Can we get back to the matter at hand

**Killian [3:22 PM]**  
Or better yet can I get back to my day

**Robin [3.23 PM]**  
The short version

**Robin [3.24 PM]**  
Is that she wants to set you up with the object of your affections

**Robin [3:25 PM]** **  
**(Notice how, in my case, it actually was a short version)

**Killian [3:26 PM]** **  
**How is this for short

**Killian [3:26 PM]**  
No

**Robin [3:30 PM]**  
Seriously

**Killian [3.31 PM]**  
Aye

**Killian [3:31 PM]**  
She clearly has no desire to pursue an acquaintance

**Killian [3:32 PM]**  
Much less a dalliance

**Killian [3:34 PM]**  
I reject toxic masculinity in all its forms

**Killian [3:35 PM]**  
Role model and all

**Robin [3:36 PM]**  
Stuffy arse and all

**Robin [4:16 PM]**

Drinks with Scarlet then

**Killian [4:16 PM]**  
No

**Robin [4.22 PM]**  
Killian

**Robin [4:22 PM]**  
Seriously

**Killian [4:59 PM]**  
Fine

**Killian [4:59 PM]**  
But you’re buying

**Killian [5:01 PM]**  
And it’s the good rum tonight

**Killian [10.04 PM]**  
You are such a wanker

**Robin [10.05 PM]**  
Don’t you know it’s bad form to be texting when other people are around

**Killian [10:06 PM]**  
Do death threats not merit an exception

\--

**Emma [10:07 PM]**  
Did you know about this

**Ruby [10:07 PM]**  
No

**Ruby [10:08 PM]**  
But I’m so glad you made me come

**Ruby [10:10 PM]**

I would honestly have paid money to watch this

**Emma [10:11 PM]**  
I thought you were going to help me move the body

**Ruby [10:11 PM]**  
That can wait until after

**Ruby [10:12 PM]**  
Stop texting me and talk to him

**Ruby [10:12 PM]**  
Or I will

**Ruby [10:13 PM]**  
God he’s even hotter than I remembered

**Emma [10:14 PM]**  
Poor Victor

**Ruby [10:14 PM]**  
Whatever

**Ruby [10:15 PM] **  
Variety is the spice of life

\--

This.

She was going to kill Mary Margaret for this.

She was going to kill David, too.

It’s not like he’d be able to arrest her for the killing spree if he was already dead -- but then she might have to deal with Will Scarlet who, apparently, was long-time friends not only with David but with Robin Locksley and Killian Jones, and she didn’t know Scarlet well enough to judge his appetite for justifiable homicide.

Maybe she’d get a better sense of it tonight because she sure as shit wasn’t going to play into Mary Margaret’s plotting hands by talking to Killian Jones. No matter how cute he was, or how funny, or how he seemed exactly as upset by the shenanigans as she did.

“I think,” he’d said when she’d sat down at the bar and given him a death glare, “this is what you call an ambush setup. And the good news is that I don’t have to buy you a drink.” He gestured at the MacCutcheon already in her hands.

“That’s true,” she said, taking a long sip.

“Although,” he added, “I could go for another rum about now.” He lifted the glass he was holding, shaking it so that the ice rattled.

Emma laughed. “I thought Irishmen drank whiskey,” she said, and liked the way he chuckled--there was something pleasant about the shape of his mouth when he did it, and the way it made his face look.

“Let me tell you a secret, Swan,” he said, leaning toward her. Emma should have felt on her guard but instead she felt drawn right back toward him, as if something were pulling them closer together. “Do you know why the English invented whiskey?”

She shook her head, suddenly unable to speak.

“To keep the Irish from taking over the world,” Killian said, his accent sounding especially pronounced.

Emma smiled again. She couldn’t help it. Something about him made her feel easy.

Made her feel safe.

“So is rum your solution to everything?”

“Not necessarily, love,” he said. “But go easy on me. I’ve been ambushed.”

Emma couldn’t help it; she laughed again. His eyes softened and one of his hands reached up to scratch behind his ear and--

No.

She waved an only-slightly-frantic hand signal at Ruby, who rolled her eyes so expressively it was practically audible before coming over and sliding onto a barstool in between Emma and Killian. “Hi,” Ruby said. “We met the other day. I’m Ruby.”

“Aye, Red,” Killian said, and gave a shy smile and a glance at Emma. “I well recall.”

“So,” Ruby had a determined glint in her eye, “do you just, like, wander the halls of your building with soup or was that a special occasion?”

Killian blushed, just for a second, but recovered easily, his lips turning up in a smirk, his attention now directed at Ruby.

Emma exhaled. She just needed a chance to pull her shit together. 

“Oh, definitely a special occasion,” Killian said. “It’s not often I have the opportunity to assay a daring rescue.”

Emma choked on her Scotch and Ruby, damn her, laughed so hard that she needed to put her drink down.

“Of Roland, naturally,” Killian said innocently. “The lady Swan here is clearly no damsel in distress.”

“Oh, I was in distress,” Emma muttered, still shy but starting to relax again. “But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. The only one who saves me is me.”

Killian raised his glass, tilting it just slightly toward hers in appreciation. 

“Nice ink,” Ruby said, gesturing at Killian’s forearm.

That’s when she saw it: a red heart, broken by a sword, and a name: Milah.

\--

This.

He was going to kill Robin for this.

Only -- this was the first time he’d actually been afforded the opportunity for a real conversation with Emma Swan. So he might actually owe the smug bastard his gratitude.

Great, just another thing to add to the list.

He’d tried not to take it personally when she’d walked in, spotted him, and her face turned murderous; his reaction to Robin’s machinations had been similarly uncharitable. He definitely took it as a good sign when she sighed and straightened her posture and headed toward his corner of the bar.

“I think,” he said when she sat down within speaking distance, “this is what you call an ambush setup.” She already had a glass of MacCutcheon in her hands. “And the good news is that I don’t have to buy you a drink.” 

He was graced with a small smile as she took a long sip. “That’s true,” she said.

“Although,” he added, deciding that he liked it, and wanted to see if he could get another one out of her, “I could go for another rum about now.” He lifted the glass he was holdng, shaking it so that it rattled.

Emma had laughed--it would take a long time for Killian to get the image out of his head: head thrown back, eyes closed, wide smile. If Mary Margaret’s laugh had lightened the room, Emma Swan’s could light up the skyline. “I thought Irishmen drank whiskey.”

“Let me tell you a secret, Swan,” he said, leaning in. “Do you know why the English invented whiskey?”

She shook her head, and also, she had leaned toward him, almost without meaning to, Killian was sure. “To keep the Irish from taking over the world.”

The smile was back, and wider this time. “So rum is your solution to everything?”

“Not necessarily, love,” he said. “But go easy on me. I’ve been ambushed.”

She laughed again and their eyes met. Killian shifted, suddenly nervous. He scratched behind his ear and he saw it the exact moment something shifted; knew their moment was over and was unsurprised when a hand gesture summoned the brunette from the hallway to a stool in between himself and Emma.

“Hi,” she said, with a bright smile and, Killian thought, a hint of exasperation. “We met the other day. I’m Ruby.”

Killian kept his eye on Emma. She’d stiffened and then relaxed, and Killian was suddenly certain of one thing:

Emma Swan had walls.

And maybe -- just maybe -- she fancied him, too.

“Aye, Red,” he said, giving her a small smile, turning most of his attention away from Emma so as to give her the space she clearly desired. “I well recall.”

“So,” Ruby said, “do you just, like, wander the halls of your building with soup or was that a special occasion?”

A question answered, then; Emma had told her friend about him. This seemed like a promising sign, and Killian felt his cheeks flush just for a second before he recovered himself and turned his best smile on Emma’s friend. “Oh,” he said, “definitely a special occasion. It’s not often I have the opportunity to assay a daring rescue.”

Ruby let out a laugh that was more of a shriek, enough to make Emma choke on her drink.

“Of Roland, naturally,” Killian said, trying to look innocent. “The lady Swan here is clearly no damsel in distress.”

“Oh, I was in distress,” Emma muttered, though she looked more relaxed again. “But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. The only one who saves me is me.”

Killian raised his glass, tilting it just slightly toward hers in appreciation. Emma Swan had walls, no doubt. But he thought, perhaps, that they would be worth breaking through. That was a new and welcome feeling, more heady than the cough syrup.

And then--

“Nice ink,” Ruby commented, and Killian almost slammed his glass down in his hurry to pull his sleeve back down to his wrist from where he had carelessly pushed it up to his forearm. The red of the heart hadn’t faded in the eighteen months since he’d had it done, and the name ‘Milah” was clear and visible.

_Shit_.

\--

**Ruby [12:01 AM]** **  
**What is even with those eyes

**Ruby [12.01 AM]**  
How are they allowed

**Ruby [12.02 AM]**  
Is that what they mean when they say “irish eyes are smiling”

**Ruby [12.03 AM]**  
God all of that and he’s funny and charming too

**Ruby [12.04 AM]**  
Seems unfair to put all of that in one person

**Emma [12.06 AM]**  
All of that baggage though

**Mary Margaret [12.07 AM]**  
Hello pot, meet kettle

**Ruby [12.08 AM]**  
He’s all wounded, like, ‘somebody save me’

**Emma [12.10 AM]**  
And you think I’m supposed to…?

**Ruby [12.11 AM]**  
Not even

**Ruby [12.11 AM]**  
That is too hot to save anybody

**Emma [12.12 AM]**  
I don’t even know what that means

**Emma [12.13 AM]**  
Meanwhile

**Emma [12.13 AM]**  
I do not have a tattoo of a dagger piercing my heart 

**Emma [12.14 AM]  
**With the name of my true love inked onto my body

**Ruby [12.14 AM]**  
No

**Ruby [12:15 AM]**  
But you still wear that stupid keychain from Neal

**Emma [12.16 AM]  
**People you love let you down

**Emma [12.16 AM]**  
This way I never forget

**Ruby [12.17 AM]**  
Nope

**Ruby [12.17 AM]**  
I call bullshit

**Ruby [12.18 AM]**  
This way you always have an excuse not to try

**Mary Margaret [12.21 AM]  
**You have that wall you put up, Emma

**Mary Margaret [12.22 AM]**  
You think it keeps out pain

**Mary Margaret [12.22 AM] **  
But it keeps out everything else, too

**Mary Margaret [12.24 AM]**  
Also he definitely likes you

**Ruby [12.25 AM]**  
AMEN

**Emma [12.26 AM]**  
Don’t you start MM

**Emma [12.26 AM]**  
This whole thing is your fault

**Mary Margaret [12.28 AM]**  
Emma

**Mary Margaret [12.28 AM]**  
He likes you

**Emma [12.29 AM]**  
Fine

**Emma [12.29 AM]**  
Whatever

**Emma [12.29 AM]**  
Even IF I believed you

**Emma [12.30 AM]**  
Even IF I wanted to

**Emma [12.30 AM]**  
He’s clearly not over the ex

**Ruby [12.31 AM]**  
Do the pot thing again, MM

**Emma [12.31 AM]**  
I’m sorry 

**Emma [12.31 AM]**  
Did you not see his face

**Ruby [12.32 AM]**  
Oh honey did I

**Ruby [12.32 AM]**  
(his eyes are SO BLUE)

**Ruby [12.33 AM]**  
I also saw the way he spent the rest of the night trying to get you to talk to him again

**Ruby [12.34 AM]**  
But you just served him up the Emma Swan classic

**Emma [12.41 AM]**  
Just

**Emma [12.45 AM]**  
I don’t know

**Emma [12.48 AM]**  
I feel stupid for letting myself even hope

**Mary Margaret [12.50 AM]**  
That’s something

**Mary Margaret [12.50 AM]**  
Happy endings always start with hope

**Ruby [12.51 AM]**  
And sleep

**Ruby [12.51 AM]** **  
**Hey, I have a thought

**Ruby [12.51 AM]** **  
**Just jump him.

**Ruby [12.52 AM]**  
Are we done now?

**Ruby [12.52 AM]**  
Because some of us have to serve the coffee rush in a freaking diner in less than five hours

**Emma [12.53 AM]  
**Granny is going to kill you with her spatula when you show up hungover

**Emma [12.53 AM]** **  
**Again

**Ruby [12.54 AM]**  
Harsh

**Ruby [12.54 AM]**  
But fair

**\--**

**Killian [1.53 AM]** **  
**It’s fine

**Killian [1.53 AM]** **  
**Right?

**Killian [1.54 AM]** **  
**It’s fine

**Robin [1.56 AM]** **  
**Of course it’s fine

**Killian [1.57 AM]** **  
**She wouldn’t even look at me

**Killian [1.57 AM]** **  
**But still

**Killian [1.58 AM]** **  
**I suppose I owe you some thanks

**Robin [2.00 AM]** **  
**I’ll take it

**Robin [2.00 AM]** **  
**But what would be even better 

**Robin [2.01 AM]** **  
**Would be to get out of the habit of these 2AM chats

**Killian [2.02 AM]** **  
**I’m serious

**Robin [2.02 AM]** **  
**So am I

**Kilian [2.03 AM]** **  
**She made me smile, Rob

**Killian [2.04 AM]** **  
**And laugh

**Killian [2.11 AM]** **  
**At least now I know I might be capable of, you know…

**Robin [2.12 AM]** **  
**Moving on, Killian

**Robin [2.13 AM]** **  
**It’s called moving on

\--

**David [6.59 AM]** **  
**Why does Mary Margaret just keep texting me strings of sad-face emojis

**David [6.59 AM]** **  
**Is this about Drool Guy

**Emma [7.01 AM]** **  
**Killian

**Emma [7.03 AM]** **  
**And I never told you about the drool

**David [7.04 AM]** **  
**I’m a highly observant person, Em

**David [7.05 AM]** **  
**It’s kind of my job

**Emma [7.07 AM]** **  
**Be less good at your job then

**David [7.16 AM]** **  
**Why do I get the feeling that MM already picked out the centerpieces for your wedding on this one

**Emma [7.17 AM]** **  
**Because you’ve met her

**David [7.20 AM]** **  
**What did he do

**David [7.20 AM]** **  
**I can make it look like an accident

**Emma [7.21 AM]** **  
**Nothing

**Emma [7.21 AM]** **  
**He smiles at me

**Emma [7.21 AM]** **  
**With his stupid face

**David [7.23 AM]** **  
**What a monster

  
\--

This was--

This was a really bad idea.

Emma didn’t care.

It was Ruby’s fault. That was all she could think when she got into the hallway, still hungover, fielding a text from the office about why she wasn’t there yet, like, she works in fucking bail bonds, she’s not saving the world, and it’s not like her skip is on a schedule--

Killian Jones stood in the hallway, waiting for the elevator, awkwardly trying not to make eye contact and it felt wrong.

She liked it when he made eye contact; liked the way his entire face smiled, even his eyes.

“Hey,” she said, keeping her voice down but he jumped anyway.

And that was wrong, too.

There was something about him, like maybe he had been startled too many times by life already and Emma Swan knew that feeling.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice low and strangely formal.

“Shouldn’t it be, like, ‘top o the morning’?” she said, giving him a smile. “Or whatever it is they say on the Lucky Charms commercials?”

That got a reaction out of him, finally.

“Decidedly not,” he said, glancing at her and then looking down again as though he didn’t want to let himself look too long.

The elevator _ ding _ed. Killian braced one arm against the door as if to hold it open for her and all Emma heard in her head was Ruby’s voice:

_ Jump him. _

The doors had only just slid shut when she grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him against her with such force that her ass slammed into the elevator wall, but by then Emma was past caring.

Because--_fucking hell_, Killian Jones could kiss.

There was a long moment of nothingness that might have been an eternity and twelve floors had never gone so quickly. Or so slowly. It was the feel of his fingers combing through her hair that might finally have done her in, or maybe the way he pulled away, completely out of breath, his face flushed and his pupils so dilated they looked blown. She had made a mess of his hair; unsurprisingly, it was a good look on him.

The elevator doors opened and Emma extricated herself from him and stepped into the small lobby

“Emma,” Killian said, “about last night--”

This was a bad idea. 

It was Ruby’s fault.

He--

She--

Emma felt her body deflate and suddenly needed to stop and take in air. She felt his hand brush an inquiry against her shoulder and stiffened, shaking her head.

“So, that was--”

“A one-time thing,” she cut him off. Maybe her voice came out more sharply than she intended, but her heart was racing and she kept picturing the tattoo on his arm and resisting the urge to pull at the chain on her neck.

_ Pot, meet kettle _.

\--

**Emma [7.34 AM]** **  
**I kissed Killian

**Ruby [7.34 AM]** **  
**What--

**Emma [7.35 AM]** **  
**I KISSED KILLIAN

**Emma [7.35 AM]** **  
**Ruby

**Ruby [7.36 AM]** **  
**FINALLY

**Ruby [7.36 AM]**  
Now stop texting me and GO DO IT AGAIN

**Emma [7.36 AM]** **  
**Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK

**Ruby [7.37 AM]** **  
**Babe, I really wanna be supportive here….?

**Emma [7.38 AM]**  
As you should be

**Emma [7.38 AM]**  
‘Just jump him’, honestly

**Emma [7.39 AM]**  
God this was such a bad idea

**Ruby [7.40 AM]**  
If you say it was a bad kiss I won’t believe you

**Emma [7.40 AM]**  
No

**Emma [7.41 AM]**  
I mean

**Ruby [7.42 AM]**  
Yeah

**Ruby [7.43 AM]**  
That’s what I thought

**Ruby [7.44 AM]**  
And no drool, am I right?

**Emma [7.44 AM]**  
...

**Ruby [7.45 AM]**  
FOR FUCK’S SAKE

**Ruby [7.46 AM]**  
HE LIKES YOU

**Ruby [7.47 AM]**

YOU LIKE HIM

**Ruby [7.47 AM]**  
GO MAKE OUT SOME MORE

**Ruby [7.48 AM]**  
(And then tell me what he smells like)

**Ruby [7.49 AM]** **  
** **(**And his hair)

**Ruby [7.50 AM]**  
(Is it, like, lots of product?)

**Ruby [7.50 AM]**  
(Or more like smooth and silky…?)

**Emma [7.56 AM]**  
This is making me very uncomfortable

**Ruby [7.57 AM]  
**You are making ME very uncomfortable

\--

This was not his best day ever.

This was--

What the fuck even was this?

Emma Swan had _ kissed him _.

Hell, she’d bloody well attacked him. “A one-time thing”? 

He could still taste her.

He--

He had to go pick up Roland.

“What’s wrong with your mouth, Uncle Killian?”

Killian’s hand fell from his mouth just in time to for him to see Mary Margaret’s concerned gaze.

“Killian,” she said, her voice low, “I’m really sorry about--well, you remember what I said about Emma’s bark being worse than her bite, right?”

Killian exhaled a laugh through his nostrils. Emma Swan’s _ bite _ was definitely not the problem. His hand went to his mouth again.

“Oh!” Mary Margaret said, blushing.

“No,” he said, not wanting her to get ideas when Emma clearly hadn’t told her friend anything. “It’s not like that--” 

“It’s David’s regular night off today,” Mary Margaret said.

“I hope you have a lovely evening, then,” he said, helping Roland get his backpack settled around his shoulders.

“What I mean,” Mary Margaret said, “is that Emma usually heads over to Granny’s for dinner when David has his night off.”

“That sounds nice,” Killian said, fixing the pack straps so they lay flat before ruffling his hand through Roland’s hair. He could well imagine why Emma wanted to absent herself from the flat on such occasions.

“If you wanted to talk to her,” Mary Margaret said, and Killian looked up at her. That knowing quality in her eyes was becoming slightly too familiar for his comfort.

Killian shifted his weight, allowing his full attention to fall on Mary Margaret. “I would prefer not to push in where I’m not wanted.”

But--was he not wanted? It had been Emma making the overture this morning while he had been prepared to give her the distance she seemed to desire, and then--

_ A one-time thing _.

“The thing is, Killian,” Mary Margaret said, “I’m not sure I agree with you. I think you just had a misunderstanding. And, Killian, this--it isn’t about you.”

“I don’t take your meaning.” Emma’s reaction to his tattoo had seemed self-explanatory.

“Emma puts a wall around herself,” Mary Margaret said. “She makes it hard to let people in, and doesn’t let herself trust easily. This business with your ex, it’s just another brick in the wall, an excuse for her to run away.”

Roland was tugging on his hand, eager to leave for their walk and to go see his papa. Killian’s other hand ran across his lips again.

_ A one-time thing _.

“I’ll think on it,” was all he said.

“She likes you,” Mary Margaret said.

\--

**Robin [4.46 PM]**  
Roland wants to know all about ‘the girl who likes Uncle Killian’

**Robin [4.47 PM]**  
And now I do as well

**Killian [4.50 PM]**  
She kissed me. 

**Killian [4.50 PM]**  
In the lift 

**Killian [4.51 PM]**  
And then ran away

**Robin [4.55 PM]**  
I’m just curious, mate

**Robin [4.55 PM]**  
What exactly are you and my son getting up to in the afternoons

**Killian [4.59 PM]**  
Come off it

**Killian [4.59 PM]**  
Mary Margaret Blanchard made a comment when I saw her at school

**Killian [5.00 PM]**  
Rob, she as much as told me to go after her

**Robin [5.02 PM]**  
And yet you sit at home in your flat

**Robin [5.03 PM]**  
Texting me

**Robin [5.08 PM]**  
You know what Liam would say right now

**Robin [5.09 PM]**  
A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets

**\--**

This was--it was a truly terrible idea.

He needed to stop chasing this woman.

Emma Swan had barely been in his life for two weeks. She was prickly. Funny. Guarded. Self-reliant. 

Beautiful.

She was a challenge; and once upon a time, Killian Jones had been a man who loved a challenge. Unfortunately, that time pre-dated the red heart inked into his forearm. And then Emma Swan had kissed him and it may have been the best twenty seconds of his life, and Killian didn’t ever want that feeling to stop, of wanting and being wanted, of feeling like he might finally have a future again.

_ She likes you _.

_ A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets _.

Surely even a chance of that was something worth fighting for.

Killian stood under the blinking neon light of Granny’s sign, feeling like a complete and total arse. Emma Swan was just in his field of vision, her red leather jacket a beacon through the window, and she wasn’t alone. Which--fine. He had no more claim on her time or her attention than anyone else; however, none of his interactions with her had suggested any present involvement of a romantic nature.

Unless the lift counted.

_ One-time thing. _

Killian sighed and pressed forward, pushing the door open and letting the bell announce his arrival. He had come too far to be a coward at this late hour and, anyway, he could simply say hello and have a drink at the counter and then take his leave.

He tried not to stare.

He failed, utterly.

Emma’s companion was a tall man with brown hair, an easy smile and a familiar lilt that suggested Northern Ireland as his place of origin. Killian had cause to see the smile when the man did exactly that, gesturing with his chin toward the bar. Caught, Killian nodded his acknowledgement and turned his attention back to his drink, feeling the blush heat up his cheeks as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.

“Can I brood here, too?”

Killian smiled, a small laugh escaping him. “Aye,” he agreed, shifting over one stool to make room for Emma at the counter.

“Let me guess,” Emma said. “Mary Margaret.”

“I really don’t know to what you might be referring,” Killian tried, and Emma made a rude noise.

“You should know,” she said, “that I’m really good at telling when people are lying. And you, Killian Jones, are a terrible liar.”

Killian ducked his head, his grin widening. “Aye, perhaps,” he said. “Out of curiosity, love, why would you accuse Mary Margaret of such treachery?”

Emma sighed, resetting herself on her stool and leaning her weight against the bartop. There was an expression on her face Killian couldn’t decipher as her focus seemed to turn inward just for a moment. “Mary Margaret is my best friend,” Emma said. “And we sort of have this history together of her getting overinvested in my romantic life and me being, just, like, over it, when it all goes wrong. Emotionally, I guess. It just always ends up being too much.”

“And you’re so sure,” Killian said, “that’s how it would end between us?”

Emma looked at him then. “That’s the problem,” she said. “I’m not sure at all.”

“So what would you say if Mary Margaret did indeed send me here tonight?”

“I would say that my best friend needs to mind her own business,” Emma said, “except that I’m glad to see you.”

“I tend to have that effect on women,” Killian said, and he felt the grin on his face, the cocky flirty grin he had deployed against Ruby just the night before. That person--that grin--didn’t feel real to him, not any more. That was the man he used to be, not the man in the here and now.

It was a line, and a grin, and that person also predated the ink on his forearm.

“Killian,” Emma said seriously, apparently not noticing his moment of panic, “listen to me for a second and treasure this moment, because it might never happen again, but I owe you an apology.”

“And I might be of a mind to accept, Swan,” he said, “depending on what you’re apologising for.” He smiled.

This time, it was a real smile.

She flushed, her eyes lingering on his mouth just a moment too long. “This morning?” 

“Are you asking me?” Killian said, laughing. 

She shoved playfully at his shoulder and, oh, Killian could get used to this, an unguarded Emma Swan. “Please, Swan,” Killian said. “Do not apologise for this morning. I quite enjoyed myself.”

“That’s the thing,” Emma said. “So did I.” She took a sip of the drink she had brought from her table. 

“I don’t really know what to say,” she said. “Just, I guess, your history is your own business. As you can see--” she gestured expressively at herself, “I’ve got my own shit, too.”

“Should you ever be so inclined,” Killian said, inclining his head, “it would be an honour to learn more of your beginnings. As for my own--well. Milah was my first great love, and my second great loss. To say I handled both of those things poorly would be an understatement, and it’s only recently that I’ve begun to realise I’m ready to move on.”

Emma stiffened.

_ Shit _. Too much, too much. He could tell just by looking at her that'd she'd misconstrued his meaning.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, love,” Killian said hurriedly, and without reaching out to touch her as he had done that morning. “Though I quite fancy you--when you’re not ignoring me--the past few weeks have shown me how much I’ve settled into a life here, and how I’ve begun to move on almost without even meaning to.” He shrugged, his right hand pulling at his ear. “That’s it; that’s all I’ve come to say.”

Killian finished his drink and lowered the glass, signalling to Granny for a check until he felt Emma’s hand staying his movement.

“I never thanked you,” she said. “For the soup.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Killian protested. 

“Just the fact that you can say that--” She paused. “Not a lot of people would have taken the time to do that for a stranger. It meant something to me.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

They sat like that for a moment.

“Graham’s just a friend,” Emma said. “My boss, actually.”

“Ah,” Killian said.

“I mention that so you don’t get the wrong idea,” Emma said. “Because I’d like to ask you out.”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, for dinner, or something,” Emma said. “I like you, Killian, just, I might need you to be patient with me.”

“I love a challenge,” Killian said, twisting his hand, where she still gripped his wrist, so their fingers intertwined. “And I’ve got all the time in the world. Only, you’ve already had dinner, and I’ve already had a drink.”

“I’ve got some leftover soup,” Emma said with a twinkle in her eye.

“I was given to understand,” Killian said, his eyebrows raised, wanting to make sure that they were talking about the same thing, “that your flat might be otherwise occupied this evening.”

“Hmm, that’s true,” Emma said, rubbing her thumb against his finger. “Guess we’ll just have to go to your place instead.”

  


\--

The thing about Graham was this: it was easy. Or at least, it could have been easy, if Emma had let it be easy. She hadn’t, she had just shut it down; but he was so freaking nice and somehow they had managed to become friends.

“And you’re okay with that,” Ruby had asked. Emma had shrugged.

“No more kissing,” Ruby had pressed, and again, Emma had shrugged.

“Oh, sweetie,” Ruby said. “Guess it couldn’t have been that much of a kiss.”

Though it had happened more than a year ago, Emma was forcefully reminded of that conversation at lunch--mostly because Ruby was crowing at the top of her voice until Emma was afraid other people would hear. “Don’t even try,” Ruby said, “to pretend you’ve been able to think about anything else since this morning. That is the kind of kiss I’ve been talking about, Em, like, if one of you was a frog, there would have been fireworks.”

“You weren’t even there to see it,” Emma pointed out.

“Didn’t need to, babe,” Ruby said. “You keep touching your mouth, like you can still taste it.” 

“Fine,” Emma said. “You were right. Happy?”

“Not until I can record that and make it my ringtone,” Ruby said, topping off Emma’s coffee before turning to another customer, and Emma had gone back to work and tried to get on with her day.

She’d failed.

Damn it, Ruby was right. About the fireworks and the kiss and--

“Ah,” Graham said. “You like him, don’t you?”

Emma’s head whipped up from her plate of onion rings so fast she almost hurt her neck, eyes narrow. “Fucking Ruby,” she said, and Graham laughed.

“Mary Margaret,” he corrected. “You know she’s not really the secret-keeping type. Ruby was just the confirmation. And then David mentioned something about drool that I didn’t entirely understand.”

“Fuck my life,” Emma muttered, and Graham laughed again. 

“You want to tell me about it?” Graham asked.

“Not particularly,” Emma said.

“Oh,” Graham said. “That’s too bad.” He gestured with his chin. “Because I think your guy just walked in and sat at the bar.”

“How is this not weird for you?” Emma asked, and then blushed.

“It is,” he said. “But what we have is good, Emma. It’s okay if there wasn’t meant to be any more than that.” He said it with complete sincerity and Emma had a flash of Killian that morning, before the elevator, being quiet and keeping his distance and knew that he would say the same thing, if that’s what she wanted.

That’s when she knew.

She didn’t want that.

More like the opposite of that.

It had been two weeks and this guy had already broken down parts of her wall, and she wanted--

Hell, she _ wanted _. It was a strangely good feeling.

“I’m going to--” Emma started.

“Good luck,” Graham said.

Emma grabbed her drink and headed for the bar. Killian was hunched slightly over his drink with a hint of redness in his cheeks, determinedly not looking where she and Graham had been sitting.

“Can I brood here, too?” she asked, and got a laugh out of him.

“Aye,” he agreed, and she sat down, looking him up and down. No way was it a coincidence that he’d found her here.

“Let me guess,” she said. “Mary Margaret.”

God, Emma was seriously going to kill her. 

“I really don’t know,” Killian said, still blushing, “to what you might be referring,” and Emma bit down on a laugh. He was rubbing at one of the rings on his right hand.

“You should know that I’m really good at telling when people are lying,” she said. “And you, Killian Jones, are a terrible liar.”

His smile got wider, and he ducked his head, and she knew she’d caught him. “Aye,” he said. “Perhaps. Out of curiosity, love, why would you accuse Mary Margaret of such treachery?”

Because Mary Margaret was Mary Margaret, and Emma had been through this before. She shifted her weight, leaning against the counter, remembering all of the other times--well, three times, if Graham counted--she’d tried this and how horribly it had ended up.

And considered how much she didn’t want this time to end up like the others. That was also a good feeling, and a new one. Like maybe there was a future here. 

A good one.

“Mary Margaret is my best friend,” Emma said. “And we sort of have this history together of her getting overinvested in my romantic life and me being, just, like, over it, when it all goes wrong. Emotionally, I guess. It just always ends up being too much.”

_ You have that wall you put up, Emma. _

_ This way you always have an excuse not to try. _

“And you’re so sure,” Killian said, “that’s how it would end between us?”

Emma looked at him then. “That’s the problem,” she said. “I’m not sure at all.”

It was a problem, except for how it wasn’t.

“So what would you say,” Killian said slowly, “if Mary Margaret did indeed send me here tonight?”

“I would say that my best friend needs to mind her own business,” Emma said, “except that I’m glad to see you.”

He grinned, and it was the grin from last night at The Rabbit Hole. The flirty one, the one he’d turned on Ruby. It was a good look on him--most things were, she decided, wondering for the first time how he would look in nothing--but Emma liked the other smile better; the real one.

“I tend to have that effect on women,” he said, opening his mouth to say something else and then apparently changing his mind. His cheeks turned pink again, but Emma needed to say something before she lost the courage.

Because Ruby was right. And Mary Margaret. And Graham. And her stupid brother, and probably Will-freaking-Scarlet by this point, as if she was going to ask him.

“Killian,” Emma said seriously, “listen to me for a second and treasure this moment, because it might never happen again, but I owe you an apology.”

“And I might be of a mind to accept, Swan,” he said, “depending on what you’re apologizing for.”

Emma felt the heat pool in her cheeks and had to forcibly move her eyes from his lips. “This morning?” 

The smile was back--the real one.

“Are you asking me?” Killian said, laughing. 

She punched him in the shoulder. Whatever. He deserved it. 

“Please, Swan,” Killian said. “Do not apologize for this morning. I quite enjoyed myself.”

“That’s the thing,” Emma said. “So did I.” 

Best twenty seconds of her life, more like. Emma grabbed her drink and took a sip before she could do something stupid like jump him right there at the bar.

“I don’t really know what to say,” she said, meaning it. “Just, I guess, your history is your own business. As you can see--”

_ Pot, meet kettle. _

“I’ve got my own shit, too,” she finished.

“Should you ever be so inclined, it would be an honor to learn more of your beginnings,” he said, bowing his head, and nothing about Emma’s bullshit detector went off. “As for my own, well--” he said. “Milah was my first great love, and my second great loss. To say I handled both of those things poorly would be an understatement, and it’s only recently that I’ve begun to realize I’m ready to move on.”

_ Too much, too much _. Emma’s heart started racing, and--

No. 

And then she noticed that he'd noticed. He watched her, just for a minute, and started talking again. Conversationally, and without touching her this time.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, love,” he said. “Though I quite fancy you--when you’re not ignoring me--”

Emma huffed a laugh.

“The past few weeks have shown me how much I’ve settled into a life here, and how I’ve begun to move on almost without meaning to.” His right hand pulled at his ear and she made a note of yet another one of his nervous tells. “That’s it,” he said. “That’s all I’ve come to say.”

Emma watched him finish his drink. It was when he lowered the glass and started to signal for a check that she made up her mind, wrapping her fingers lightly around his wrist.

“I never thanked you,” she said. “For the soup.”

“It was the right thing to do,” he said, like it was just that simple.

Maybe it was; or at least, maybe it could be. But--

“Just the fact that you can say that,” she said. “Not a lot of people would have taken the time to do that for a stranger. It meant something to me.” Emma could count on one hand and have fingers left over the people in her life who would make that effort.

“I’m glad,” he said simply, and watched her.

She let him.

“Graham’s just a friend,” Emma said. “My boss, actually.”

“Ah,” Killian said.

“I mention that so you don’t get the wrong idea,” Emma said. “Because I’d like to ask you out.”

“Excuse me?”

His reaction was something Emma would remember for a very long time: eyebrows raised, his head cocked at an angle, the way his tongue darted out of his mouth and his eyes sparking with anticipation.

“Like, for dinner, or something,” Emma said. “I like you, Killian, just, I might need you to be patient with me.”

“I love a challenge,” Killian said. Her fingers were still on his wrist, but he used her grip to twist them around, allowing their fingers to intertwine. “And I’ve got all the time in the world. Only, you’ve already had dinner, and I’ve already had a drink.”

“I’ve got some leftover soup,” Emma said, and she knew what she was asking.

“I was given to understand that your flat might be otherwise occupied this evening.” An out--he was giving her an out. Somehow, that just made her more certain.

“Hmm, that’s true,” Emma said, rubbing her thumb against his finger. “Guess we’ll just have to go to your place instead.”

\--

**Mary Margaret [12.39 AM]**  
Hey you never came home just making sure Graham didn’t send you out on a new skip

**Mary Margaret [12.46 AM]**  
Emma?

**Mary Margaret [12.49 AM]**  
Are you alive?

**Emma [1.43 AM]**  
Yes I’m alive

**Emma [1.43 AM]** **  
**No I’m not coming home tonight

**Mary Margaret [1.44 AM]** **  
**OMG

**Mary Margaret [1.44 AM]**  
You slept with him

\--

**Emma [1.48 AM]** **  
**I took your advice

**Emma [1.49 AM]** **  
**There was no drool

**Ruby [1.54 AM]**  
I’m so proud

\--

**Killian [2.01 AM]** **  
**Need a favour

**Robin [2.04 AM]**  
Right

**Robin [2.04 AM]**  
Because it’s 2AM again and I live to serve

**Killian [2.05 AM]** **  
**Don’t use your key when you drop off Roland today

**Killian [2.06 AM]**  
What I mean is, knock first, yeah?

**Robin [2.08 AM]**  
Tell me at least you spent the night in your flat and not on the hallway floor

**Robin [2.13 AM]**  
Killian

**Robin [2.13 AM]**  
I’m telling her the cough syrup story

**Killian [2.14 AM]**  
She was there, mate

**Robin [2.15 AM]** **  
**The bit about her eyes being greener

**Robin [2.15 AM]**  
I think she’ll like that bit

**Killian [2.17 AM]**  
I hate you

**Robin [2.18 AM]** **  
**And here we are again

**Robin [2.18 AM]**  
Not so much for revenge now that you’ve got a happy ending, I take it?

**Killian [2.21 AM]** **  
**Perhaps not

**Killian [2.22 AM]**  
Only you underestimate the lady Swan 

**Killian [2.23 AM]**  
Apparently Mary Margaret has a cousin named Regina

**Robin [2.25 AM]**  
I hate you

**Robin [2.26 AM]**  
And I’m turning off my ringer

-30-

**Author's Note:**

> 'dorothy moves to click her ruby shoes  
right in tune with "dark side of the moon"  
someone--  
someone could tell me where i belong  
be calm  
be brave  
it'll be okay.
> 
> voices calling from a yellow road  
to come downstairs,  
and say hello.  
don't be shy--  
just say hello.'  
\--guster


End file.
